"By Hannah! mebbe He did," responded 'Liphalet. "But I hadn't thought on it that way till you said it, Susan. How did you get down here?" "I--I fell." "I thought likely," was his grim response. "And now we're goin' to have somethin' of a time to scramble up again." "Is there nobody to help us, 'Liphalet?" "Ain't a soul stirring this weather. All sensible folks is to home," was his mild criticism of her conduct in venturing forth. "Even the station crew won't go on patrol before four o'clock. Ev'rybody but us is as snug as hermit crabs. "But don't ye lose heart, Sue," he added cheerfully. "I'll git ye out o' this all right." "I don't doubt it, 'Liphalet," she returned, clinging to his arm with both hands and gazing expectantly into his face. The ex-steward was seriously tempted. The peril of their position sloughed away from his mind for the moment. He gazed down into her uplifted face and believed he saw there a response to his unspoken desire. And then there swept over him, like the curtain of snow and sleet that had buffeted him on the brow of the cliff, the chilling thought of that forty thousand dollars! That fortune which she had hoarded--of which she had evidently spent so little during these ten bitter years--parted them. He could not bring himself into the appearance of being a fortune hunter. He wished with all his heart and soul Sue Ambrose's money had fallen with her down the face of the cliff. He would cut it loose and save her for himself--letting the raging sea take toll of her hateful wealth! Already he was knotting the line under her arms in true reefer fashion. He showed her by gesture as well as word of mouth, how to cling to him as he climbed--actually setting her pickaback across his loins--so that he might have both hands free. Miss Sue, though of almost childish figure, was no weakling. As for 'Liphalet, he silently thanked the Almighty his years of active life at sea had toughened his muscles and sinews and steadied his mind against times of stress. With his boots thrust against the broken, frosted bank, he pulled himself and his burden upward by the sheer strength of his arms, working his way hand above hand along the rope. Nor was the attempt without a certain heart-sickening peril. The shale rattled from under his boots wherever he set them. The whole face of the sand cliff was, at this point it seemed, as loose as ashes. Suppose that bar, thrust into the earth above, should loosen! It might pull out at any moment and cast them both into the ravening flood. Even as Eliphalet Truitt thought of this horrid possibility, a great sea rose below them, burst, and the wash of it almost sucked them down. Tons upon tons of earth were bitten out of the bank, and he was in actual panic for the moment. Had he not come at the moment he had to Sue's rescue, it would have been too late. The ledge on which she had lain was engulfed.